Sweet Like Cinnamon

Pt 3

Blood. There's so much blood.  My right eye was hazy. I can feel the warm, thick liquid cascading down the side of my face, a feeling like honey. I couldn't remember if the pounding was my heart or the bashing of my eye trying to break out of my skull.
"No!" I screeched, trying to feebly crawl up the steps.
Something grabbed my ankle and yanked me down the few steps I managed to move up to. I was pinned down by the throat, the hands showing no intent of releasing me.
"Your eyes are unbearable, all I see is him!" the figured barked wildly. They grabbed the sharp piece of glass, probably from the broken bottle, and started slashing my eye. They paid no attention to the other eye.
The clawing sensation wouldn't rest. The pressure on my windpipe only allowed me to make small, croaking wheezes. I reluctantly peeled my left eye open only to be met with malevolent green eyes.
Mikaela?
    My head flew off the surface at light speed.
    "What are you doing sleep head?" she teased.
    Alyssa and Garrett stood behind her waiting for me. Garrett was sending daggers to the back of Mikaela's head. Why would he be livid?  I feebly melted out of my seat to head off to lunch.
Alyssa turned her back and said, "Mikaela and I will meet you guys there." I assumed they headed off to the bathroom.
I was about to trail off before Garrett's hand abruptly knocked my shoulder in an attempt to stop me. I looked into his striking  blue eyes, almost scaring me. Garret has always been fairly aloof, but this, this is petrifying. My breath hitched in my throat as I get an all too familiar feeling.
"Don't talk to Mikaela," his voice was stone cold.
I swallowed the nerves in my throat and squeezed out a pathetic, "W-why not?"
Time slowed down as I anxiously waited for his answer. I am normally not the type of person to be easily intimidated. Maybe it's because Garrett's answer is something I'm not typically expecting.
"She's killed someone."
Tick.
"What?"
Tock.
My clammy fingers rubbed against my palms. A bead of sweat slowly rolled off and a wave of relief washed over me like wind.
"Haha, very funny," I breathed out, "I know you're always serious, but damn, I didn't know you can joke around."
"I'm not, why would I joke about that," he gritted his teeth.
A "need to protect" sense dwelved over me, "How am I supposed to know?"
"Listen dude, sh-" he started.
"No," I picked up his hand that was on my shoulder and gave it back to him, "you listen dude. That's so circumstantial.  I don't know if you're jealous that Mikaela hasn't spoken a word to you, but you need to shut the fuck up right now and stop."
His merciless eyes pierced the back of my head as I left the classroom. Why would that fool say something like that? He's never met Mikaela, so even is she did, how the hell would he know? Maybe it was theoretical, like a game or something.
The deafening, cold hallways were desolate of any sign of life.  The pristine lockers and posters advertising many upcoming events were all parallel and immaculate to one another. Not a thing was out of place at this school, it was almost repugnant.
Disgusting.
"I know the school is awfully boring to look at" a vaguely familiar, soft voice spoke. Mikaela came hobbling down to my side, trying to catch up with me. A creaking sound was coming from her right knee, like metal needing oil to move correctly.
"Are you okay," I stopped and question her.
Her limping was very noticeable as she tried to cling onto her steps. I caught her by the forearm before she totally tumbled.  She yanked her arm away from me and sat pathetically in the hallway.
"Do you think you can carry me to my car or would I be too unwieldy?" she chuckled, trying to make the subject light, "Also, you need to drive. I can't move my right leg."
I hoisted her up on my back, she felt kind of warm and kind of heavy, but I would never tell her that. "I don't know how to drive," I said hastily.
"Ha, it's okay. You're almost eighteen. Live life on the edge," she laughed.
Her laugh was adorable, simple and cute. A blush rose to my cheeks thinking these thoughts. Her torso laid against my upper back and her dainty arms wrapped around my chest, almost like she was clinging for her life.
We got to the student parking lot only to be met with a... Lexus IS?
"I paid for it with my own money. Don't think I'm spoiled like the rest of these scrubs at school," she pitifully crawled into the passenger seat.
She hastily tossed me the keys. I quickly went into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel.
I was about to turn the car on before she stopped me, "Hold on I need to check out the plate in my knee."
She gingerly started patting her knee, like she was feeling for something. Her thumb hit the edge of her knee and she winced, "Ah, yeah, it's out of place." Her hands fell at her side in defeat and leaned back in her seat.
"What happened to your knee," I questioned as I started the car. My foot immediately slammed on the pedal, not ready to kill us yet.
Mikaela slung forward from the sudden stop and groaned, "The right side of my body has the plates too, don't be imprudent and break them."
"Sorry, I usually have no qualms when it comes to my actions, but this can be a life or death situation," I said sympathetically, "Now why do you have plates in your bones?"
"I fell," she said simply.
I took my foot off the brake and onto the gas, pressing slowing to get used to the car. "How? Was it stairs? Or maybe aliens decided they didn't want you anymore," I chuckled weakly.
"It was a cliff, the ones in Maine are huge," she said, looking  off out the window with a somber look.
"You're clumsy or maybe someone pushed yo-."
"Just drop it," she barked, resting her head against the seat.
The silenced invaded the car quickly after that. Mikaela was softly humming the song that played on the radio. The scenery on the side of me blurred past the car as I made my way to... where?
"Hey, uh, where do you want me to go?" I awkwardly asked her.
"Oh! I'm so dumb. The hospital," she chuckled to herself.
"Yeah, you just telling me to drive with no directions is a little ambiguous."
Silence drowned the car again. Mikaela stared out the window with pensive eyes on her poise face. I twitched, feeling cantankerous about the silence, desperate to start a conversation.
"So, you're from Maine?" I asked her in an attempt for her to speak.
"Yeah, my mom is from Russia and my dad is from Japan. They both moved here and had me." She replied with a faint smile on her face.
"How come you moved her to Washington?"
"Well," she thought about it, suspiciously taking a long time to answer, "I wanted a new start. That's what most kids want when they move far away."
I knew it wasn't the right time to ask about Garrett, but I just need to know, "Do you know Garret?"
"Yeah," she trailed off as if she was trying to find an excuse for something, "We went to elementary school together and we used to be friends until he tried to kiss me. I kicked him in the shin and then we never spoke again."
She's lying, Garrett's mom was an elementary school teacher, she taught them herself until middle school. Maybe something bad happened in the past which is why both of them show signs of aborhing each other. I want them to amend things because this will just be a pain in the end.
We arrived at the hospital and I helped carry Mikaela in. She was immediately surrounded by several doctors like bees to their queen. She was limelight in the room.
A man, probably the head doctor, stood tall and affluent. He took Mikaela's knee in his hand and began examining it. I felt stupid that I didn't notice to purple, greenish bruise that looked like mold right in the area that was out of place. Could it have been a foot print? No, she's probably clumsy considering that's how she most likely got those plates anyways.
"Did someone do this? I know you're not clumsy considering almost none of your plates break," the doctor said sternly.
Mikaela swallowed the lump in her throat. "Ha, you're right, maybe going to a new school was bad luck after all," she tried to assuage the situation. No one laughed.
"She's right, she fell. I even told her to watch her step, they're steep," I jumped in not thinking.
The doctor looked at me in understandment, "We can't fix it tonight. The new plates will come in by the end of the week. Is that okay?"
She smiled triumphantly, "When push  comes to shove, I have Eli, isn't that right?"
I clenched my jaw in an attempt to not say no. That son of a bitch at home won't know I'm gone, but maybe that is a good thing. I can get away from my world, at least for a little bit.
    "Yeah I can take care of her, considering she is helpless without her leg," I awkwardly smile.
    "Thank god, I need human company every now and then," she replied.
    The doctor handed Mikaela some papers and talked to her more. A wheelchair was brought out for so I didn't have to carry her again. A little part of me felt discouraged, but I shook it off just thinking I was tired. I came out of the hospital pushing Mikaela in her wheelchair.
    "You may be scrawny, but you can definitely push me faster than this," she commented.
    Ouch. She's blunt, maybe too blunt. Maybe she's just a fucking bitch. My hands got clammy, insecurity showering over me like delicate rain. I loosened the school tie around my neck.  She's not a bitch, she's just right and I don't like that idea.
    We got to her car and she feebly crawled into  the passenger seat. I put the keys in the ignitions and began driving onto the road. My face was gloom and a feeling of emptiness swallowed me. I hate when this happens. I just want to go somewhere alone. 
    "Where is your house," I asked her.
    She bit her lip, almost like she was nervous. "It's just down the road here," she spoke softly, "please don't comment about how it looks. I get embarrassed easily."
I nodded somberly and drove slowly down the path. I can already tell she lives in a richey neighborhood by the way the grand houses stood marvelously.
"It's this one," she pointed out.
The stone structure in front of me was elegant. The a-framed roofing was made out of gray brick, really making the home look like a home. The double door stood wide and beguiling. The clean-cut grass was neat and kept; flowers were growing here and there. Large oak trees surrounded the house, making it look ethereal. The house is way too extensive to be just for one person.
"Do you live with anyone?" I question, stepping out of the car.
Mikaela reached her arms out like a child and said, "I'll tell you my life story when you tell me what happened to your eye."
I hoisted her up onto my back. Her leg was dangling like a rag doll's leg. "Fair enough," I coughed, "but not right now."
We made it inside the house and I placed her on the white, leather couch that brought out the dark wood floors. Plants were scattered here and there to complement the whitewashed walls. A massive painting of many flowers hung wide above the small book shelves filled with, comic books?
"A Silent Voice..." I murmured, looking at the rim of the book.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "Please don't look at those. It's embarrassing." A small chuckle escaped her soft lips.
I shook my head at the thought and asked, "How come?"
"If you don't know what they are, you can Google it, but don't bring it up around me. It's a secret passion."
I nodded my head, "then who painted the picture of the flowers?"
"Oh!" her eyes brightened as she adjusted the pillow behind her, "I did."
My mouth gaped open in astonishment. The realistic, vivid colored flowers seemed almost real. Tiny brush details were barely visible; showing how much detail was put into each individual flower, like people themselves.
"So you're an artist?"
"Oh hell yeah I am and I love showing off my repertoire," she said without any question.
"Isn't that selfish?"
"Everyone's selfish."
Interesting. I admired that she didn't say how she wasn't that good even though she clearly was. Alyssa would always do that. I would compliment her and then she would deny that she had any talent; clearly looking for someone to compliment her. I smiled a little at Mikaela.
I yawned, causing tears to briskly filly my left eye. My ran my hands through my hair, trying to wake up.
"If you bring carry me, I'll get you clothes for you to wear," Mikaela piped up.
I reluctantly bent down so she can hop, well crawl, onto her new transportation method. She rested her head against my back. Blush rose to my cheeks feeling flustered. We turned around the couch, down to the hall. The hall was caliginous and showed no form of anything alive. No pictures, no painting, no plants, no nothing. I it was empty, kinda like me.
I took another right only to be met with two doors.
"The first one," she said quickly.
I shrugged it off and opened the door. Yeah, life was definitely in this room. Her room gave a buoyant vibe. Her walls were black and had many posters on the wall. Cute fairy lights illuminated the room in a soft way. Her bed was full sized and decorated with simple, floral sheets and blankets. She had a desk with books and paper on it along with a laptop. Of course, there were plants. Her dresser was matte black and had picture frames that were facing down. There were several of them, all the same frames and catching dust.
I gingerly placed her down on her bed and she laid down on the bed and sighed. I went over to the pictures and went to pick one up.
"Ah," she exclaimed.
I flinched when she did; startling me. I let the picture fall before I got a glance at it. I brushed my hair out of my face and skimmed my fingers against my scars. I almost forgot about them. Mikaela makes me forget things I hate about myself, well, most of the time.
"Sorry," she said, looking like she's coming up with an excuse, "my clothes are in the closet."
A black curtain covered the entrance to the closet. I pulled it back only to be met with several cardboard boxes. They had names on it. Eren, I read. Huh? The clothes hanging from the coat rack were a little to the left of it. I pulled out a large grey hoodie and shrugged my shoulders.
"Tomorrow's Saturday, right?" she questioned.
"Yeah."
"Good, you can spend the night and take care of me over the weekend."
I thought about it. I turned my phone off so he can't find me and he has no idea if I'm okay. Perfect.
"Yeah, I will."
"Okay."